Auguste Mitchell Jackson, August 1,1993- January 2021


by Auguste Mitchell Jackson

First that, now this
and this must end now.
It was the beauty of day,
I could see it like scripture.
We had our differences and,
how many other ways could
a conscious figure?
Come and hold your hand in mine.
Read my callous and tell my fortune.
Lead me to the berry vine.
In the middle of summer,
Lend me your torch.
Don't get lost today,
Take the time to be the same,
I wouldn't have it any other way!

August 1,1993- January 2021


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